don't forget 3oct11
by inalphonsesarmor
Summary: This is just a small fic I wrote today for Fullmetal Alchemist day. I'm sure there's a lot of typos, but I'll go back and fix those later; I am running on about three hours of sleep, after all.


It was warm, the fire blazing around Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist; consuming every last thing in sight with a burning, unquenchable greed. Oranges, reds, and embers danced effortlessly with one another, hand in hand at a masquerade of destruction, of loss. His teeth clenched, his fist tightened, and the stars continued to shine bright above; mocking him with their bright hydrogen smiles. Al's armored body stood tall and sturdy behind him, a steel backbone Edward needed to stand. The emptiness of the younger brother's armor was heavy around the two in the air, fighting with the smoke that lingered lazily from the fire, to see which could fill up Ed's lungs and choke him first. The suit was empty save for a soul he bonded with his blood, the life he sacrificed. And for what? —Nothing. The law is incomplete. He thought, had his father's alchemy books, with their time stained yellow pages, helped the house burn? Was Winry awake, watching them in her sorrowful sympathy lost everything for the hundredth time? He thought, you cannot gain anything without first giving something in return.

"—Brother," Al's sweet, childish voice cut through the silence harshly, "We should go."

The fire had settled somewhat, swelling only slightly when a gust of air passed by, carrying as as gently as a child to some unknown destination. "No—" Ed croaked, scuffing his boot at the pile of embers, watching with empty golden eyes as a small flame great then withered away into nothing. In truth, he wanted to leave. He, and Al, had burnt down their own home in a selfish act of impulsiveness. He claimed that by burning down the home where his mother had died, where he and Al had tried to play God, failed, and learned to rebuild— that he would have no reason to look back. He could finally set his sights forward, with a newly discovered strength in his legs to keep moving on. There is a religious story that Ed once heard, and quickly dismissed. He was an alchemist, after all— a man of science, not a man of God. What reason did he have to believe in something that wasn't an equation; a law. Science was certain, the word of false prophets were not; but, as he stood over the cindering remains of his life, Ed couldn't help but be reminded.

The sun was risen upon the Earth when Lot entered into Zo-ar. Then the Lord rained upon Sodom and upon Gomorrah brimstone and fire from the Lord out of Heaven; and He over threw those cities, and all the plain, and all the inhabitants of the cities, and that which grew upon the ground. Lot had made a sacrifice, and God told his wife not to look back where all those people and their homes had been. But she did look back, and she did it because it's the human thing to do. Who could blame her? The story ended with Lot's wife, after a brief second of looking over her shoulder; of thinking, "But wait—" being turned into a pile of salt. The law of Equivalent Exchange—born from salt, to become salt, again.

The past cannot be burned away, because even ashes remain to remind.

It was almost dawn when the home stopped smoldering. The soft smell of morning wrapped itself around Edward while the sky began to brighten, gentle pinks and oranges chasing away the inky blackness of night. "Alright, Al," Ed had whispered, "It's time to go." Al nodded, keeping quiet because he knew his brother better than anyone; he knew when sadness was all Ed could speak. The two brothers walked down the incline that led to their home in silence, and Edward could almost feel Winry's eyes watching his small figure disapper into the distance. He was sure he felt forgiveness, but he couldn't sense any form understanding. He had been so defeated after the failed human transmutation; a boy who desperately just wanted to stand on his own, now without a leg to stand on and without an arm to reach out with. He spent his days huddle in a wheelchair, his eyes cast to the floor in a haunted gaze, his jaw slack and mouth shut; quiet. He hated himself. He hated himself for ever thinking that he was capable of playing God and bringing his mother back to life. He hated himself for being the reason his brother, who only wanted to feel his mother's warmth again, was not trapped in a steel, cold body; never to feel the touch of anyone ever again. He had become a boy who'd given up all hope, his golden eyes now full of a lackluster he had never known.

But, one day, there had been redemption. There had been a knock on the door, a muffled, deep voice from somewhere in the house, and the hollow sound of boots walking over a wooden floor. Colonel Roy Mustang, came to Risembool with one offer: join the military, fight and become stronger, and restore your bodies back to normal. The only price to pay was that Edward would become the military's dog, that he would be the first to fight when war came; but, what was another price to pay? He and Al had already lost everything. There was nowhere to go but up. He sat at the table, forcing his gaze away from Colonel Mustang's, mulling over his shortcomings, his mistakes. Failure. The fear of his brother hating him for what he had done. Which was worse, a sinner or a saint?

A sinner once flew on wings made of wax to the sun. He thought he could touch the massive star, but when he got too close, his wings melted, and he came crashing back down to Earth. He was punished for his arrogance at thinking he could do such an impossible thing. And that's when Edward realized each day of his life would be hell; his wings would melt, and he could continue to crash over and over again, his young bones crushing to pieces with each hit, until he reached for something almost as unattainable— redemption. And that was enough to give him the bravery he needed to take one, small, insignificant step forward. And sometimes, that's all one needs. Move forward, one step at a time.

He had always had a fire blazing in those golden eyes.

Time is such a broken mechanism, for it passes too quickly; but not quick enough. Edward had stood fragile and broken before a woman on her knees, just as the sun was setting in Liore. She had been crying, asking Edward where she should go from there; her city laying in rubble all around her. "Stand up and walk. Keep moving forward. At least you have two good legs to take you there," he had said; the words rolling so smoothly over his tongue like he had spoken them his entire life. He had sat with his brother in the pouring, forgiving rain, the blood of a young girl's father still staining his bare skin. He learned that humankind and monsters were the same; that he wasn't a God. He couldn't even save a little girl. But, he learned that we was human; that we're all human. And that means we can all fight to the best of out abilities, but some battles just cannot be won; and, the fact that those battles cannot be won doesn't mean that we should give up and mope, but it means we should just fight harder so when it's time for the next battle, we're stronger. He learned about having to fight and live and move forward when you just want to die. Having fallen in love with someone's whose hands that were made to create that once held a gun to a man's hand. Having a friend of his give into sin and becoming Greed and furthermore, learning that Greed isn't such a bad thing because all humans want something they can't have and if it wasn't for Ed and Al just having wanted to see their mother smile again, Ed wouldn't have met the beautiful people he did or experience the moments he had on his journey. He wouldn't have found his father or forgiven him or learned that one is all and all is one and that the world just isn't about him and that there's so many connection and an ebb and a flow and that the world even painted in suffering is still a beautiful sight to behold. Through all of that, at the end of The Promised Day, Al sacrifices himself. Instead of calling it quits there, he realize that there is one last valiant act he can perform, giving up his alchemy, the sole essence of his being, in order to pull Al's body back from the Gate of Truth. Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist gave the ultimate sacrifice and out of it he received one thing he had fought so hard for since the beginning—

Happiness.

There had never been a minute Edward hadn't thought of turning back, but he never did. He had found the truth, fixing it with a sacrifice of his own. He perserved through every obstacle that came his way, met each suffering with joy. But in the end, he never forgot— all because of a small, sliver pocket watch that said within it's lid, "Don't forget .11."


End file.
